Here Lies A Woman
by Mimi The Muse
Summary: Cassandra pays her respects to the other woman.


Title: Here Lies A Woman

Author: Sienna Wilson

Character: Cassandra Spender

Fandom: The X-Files

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Cassandra pays her respects to the other woman.

A/N: Written in 2002 for an XF Harem challenge, reworked in 2008 for 100_women Live Journal prompt challenge.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. I'm not getting paid. So don't sue me.

------

Here lies a woman my husband loved more then me.

It was the epitaph for Teena Mulder that kept running through Cassandra Spender's mind as she stood at the back of the small crowd gathered around the casket. A light drizzle fell down on the mourners as the rabbi conducted the graveside service. She was not Jewish, so she merely bowed her head and hoped not to stand out more then necessary. Being there was uncomfortable enough for her. Yet, she had traveled a long way to pay her last respects to the other woman.

The other woman that her husband loved long before he met Cassandra, and the other woman he had loved long after he walked out on his wife. Teena Mulder, the beautiful wife of his best friend. The forbidden fruit tempting him from the center of garden. A forbidden fruit he had tasted long enough to create two children, then swore himself off of. Or so he reassured her when he called her by the wrong name.

It wasn't that she hadnt known what she was getting into when she and Charles got together. She been aware of Teena from the very beginning, but she had been young and naive enough to think that once they got married he would forget about the woman he couldn't have. Eventually he did marry her, after she became pregnant. She tried to tell herself many times that he would've married her anyways, that he loved her and wanted to spend his life with her. Six months after their wedding day she bore him a son. One that would carry on the Spender name and make his father proud. But was it enough?

Only for awhile. Then Charles began to call Cassandra by the wrong name again, the same name he whispered in his sleep. Teena. The name of the woman he had loved all along. Cassandra was merely the name of the woman who cooked his meals, washed his shorts and cleaned his house.

Years passed and she kept trying to be the perfect wife and mother, trying to surpass the standard of what kind of wife and mother Teena would be that floated around in her mind. She foolishly thought if she could be better then the other woman, then maybe her husband would love her more. So she didn't complain when her husband turned her over to the extra-terrestrials to be a guinea pig. She didn't even complain when the daughter Charles had during his affair with Teena came to live with them. But what did she get for all of it?

Divorce papers delivered to her doorstep one morning, two weeks after her husband had went out to buy a pack of Morleys and never came back. He left her after twelve years for greener pastures. She never did find out if they were Teena's, and she didn't want to know. Once Charles had left she didn't hear the name Teena Mulder again until three days ago, when she heard of her passing.

As the funeral broke up, a line formed for the mourners to stop before the casket once last time. Cassandra was almost at the back of the line, and took a deep breath as the rain picked up. She wasn't sure why she was standing there getting soaked over the woman who had stolen her husband, but she waited her turn anyways.

Finally the person in front of her stepped away and she could see the coffin. It struck a cord deep inside of her and things suddenly snapped into focus. The reason she came here, the reason that eluded her until now was glaringly simple. She had come so far to pay respects to Teena because, whether she liked it or not, they did have a lot in common. When they were young and naive they had both fallen in love with the same man. They had both bore him sons, and raised the same daughter for him. And it was that same man who had been responsible for the difficult hands they had been dealt in life.

"I hope you have peace, Teena...wherever you are." She whispered and patted the dark wooden lid of the coffin. "I mean it."

With that, Cassandra turned and started to walk away from the grave, but something made her stop to take a final look. She felt a sudden rush of sympathy for Teena as she looked at the casket. It was something she never thought she would feel for the woman,. Yet here she was, feeling lucky that she had the strength to persevere, to still be standing there when Teena had not been so lucky. Now the epitaph in her mind had changed.

Here lies a woman my husband loved more then me...but still destroyed anyway.


End file.
